THE WRITING

Sometimes a mist of sunlight across a stranger's hair,

Sometimes the vague expression upon a stranger's

face,

Can make me feel your presence--can fill a lonely

place

With dreams of life half realized. Faint music

through the air

Can make me hear your foot-fall, again, upon the

stair--

Sometimes a dancer moving with quite unconscious

grace,

Can make my pulse beat faster; and for a breathless

space

Can make me turn, expecting to find you standing

there!

You have not gone! The passing of every empty

day

Has only brought you nearer. Those things that

were a part

Of all we planned together are bits of you that stay,

To bruise my soul as sharply as any flame-tipped

dart.

Ah, time may hold its healing--but years that pass

away

Cannot erase the writing you traced upon my

heart!

Cross Roads · 第 87 / 129 题